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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23764465">Drabble</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account'>orphan_account</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Coughing, Fever, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Post-Apocalypse, Sickfic, They live in their own house now, This is what happens when you garden in the rain Crowley</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 18:01:23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>600</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23764465</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Crowley gets sick after gardening in the rain, so Aziraphale helps him feel better.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>34</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Drabble</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Disclaimer:<br/>- This takes place after the apocalypse. Crowley and Aziraphale have moved into their new home where it's peaceful and quiet.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>When Crowley had dropped a glass in the kitchen, barely able to stand up, Aziraphale knew it was coming. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come one. Let’s get you to bed.” He maneuvered Crowley into his arms and walked them to the bedroom. He eased Crowley onto the sheets, praising him for enduring the journey. “This is what happens when you refuse to listen to your husband and garden in the rain,” he tutted. He placed a hand on Crowley’s forehead. “You have a fever. Stay here, let me fetch you some water.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Crowley laid there limply, miserably, and his lungs screamed at each painfully dry cough. He was relieved when Aziraphale finally returned with a tall glass of water. It was cool to the touch when he took it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is this regular water?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale deadpanned. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry, bad joke.” Crowley tipped the glass back and started drinking small sips at a time. Each swallow felt like rubbing over a blister, but the water did settle his stomach. Once the glass was half-empty, he set it aside on the nightstand. “Think that’s as much as I can handle, thanks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale fretted for a moment and he moved to stand up. “Oh, maybe I should make some tea-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s too hot for bloody tea!” Crowley whined. He grasped Aziraphale’s hand, pulling him back to the bed. “Stay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But your throat-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Will be fine so long as I don’t talk much.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you sure?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mhm,” Crowley nodded. He pinched the bridge of his nose as a sharp pain jabbed at his skull; his whole body jerked and the hand that was holding Aziraphale squeezed. “Sorry, love. God, it hurts.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-is there anything I can do?” Aziraphale asked timidly. “I could- that is, if you feel comfortable. I wouldn’t want to force you, but I could- um.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Spit it out, angel.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You could rest on my lap?” As soon as the words left his mouth, his cheeks reddened and his hands began to sweat. His voice climbed two notches higher as he squeaked, “Wait, no! I mean that I could fetch you some pain medicine and maybe give you a head massage or, or-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Crowley covered his face with a hand as his body began to quake.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh dear, I’m so sorry. I’ve probably said too much. I didn’t mean to make you upset, darling. Here, why don’t you lay down and rest while I-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not-” Crowley chortled, “I’m not crying angel, you can quit your worrying.” Laughing hurt so bad, but it was really impossible not to when Aziraphale was being shy about laying on his lap of all things. They’ve been godfathers to the antichrist, have known each other for 6000 years, and have shared bodies, but God forbid there be any cuddling. Grinning from ear to ear, Crowley tugs Aziraphale gently onto the bed with their held hands. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once Aziraphale was settled, he wrapped an arm around Crowley’s shoulders and slowly ushered him down. Crowley’s head pressed down on his thighs and a low, relieved groan escaped from Crowley’s lips. “Good?” Aziraphale asked, stroking a hand through Crowley’s hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. Hey, listen.” Crowley paused. “Hear that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t hear a thing, so if you’re hearing something right now that means you’re hallucinating and I’m taking you straight-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no, that’s my point! It’s silent. Blessed silence..”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.” Aziraphale perked his ears, listening for any sign of sound. But it was perfectly quiet. “How peaceful,” he grinned. “Suppose that’ll be a nice change, won’t it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Crowley didn’t respond.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Frowning, Aziraphale looked down at him, before giving a fond sigh and small smile. Crowley had fallen asleep. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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